I slung a leg over my cousin’s lap, my cock already half-hard. “Thanks for doing this, Mark.”

He shrugged. “What’s family for? Do I actually gotta put my dick inside of you though?”

His big hands landed on my hips. He dragged a thumb over the sensitive skin of a hip. I shivered involuntarily, cock rising to fully hard. My cousin was well aware I was gay though, so I wasn’t too embarrassed about being turned on. Mark was hot, and he knew it.

“I guess not, ” I said, opening the camera app on my phone and playing with the lighting. “It would just look a lot more believable if your dick was really inside of me, but if you’re not comfortable with that we don’t have to.”

“Nah, I want that asshole to really get what he lost.” Mark grabbed his dick, surprisingly hard, and lined the tip up with my rim.

I bore down on his tip, my ass swallowing his shaft inch by inch. Underneath me, he swore, pressing further up into me. I had to bite back a moan when he was fully seated inside of me. Mark was a lot bigger than my last boyfriend. The stretch of his cock in my ass was glorious, but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

I pulled out my phone to snap a few quick photos. Mark leaned his head into my chest, breath skating over a nipple. A little shiver raced through me. My ass clenched around Mark’s dick and he let out a cut off groan against me.

Heat raced through me at the sound. I swallowed hard and reminded myself, focus.

A few pictures later, I put my phone down and grabbed onto Mark’s broad shoulders to lift myself off of him.

“Thanks for doing this, man,” I started with. “You wanna go grab a drink or something?”

Mark’s hands on my hips stopped me from leaving, pushing his length further up into me. His tip glided over my prostate and my cock jerked between us, a steady trail of precum leaking from my slit. “Actually, I was thinking… Since you’re already here and all… What if we just fucked?”

I let my weight drop back down his length. Both of us groaned at the friction.

“I think,” I panted out, “that can be arranged.”

———————————-

But one is a stranger, a woman she notices while she sits on a bench, gathering herself. It’s a type of woman she has never seen before, because there are no old women in Barbieland. When Barbie looks at her, she finds her beautiful and tells her so. The woman already knows. Suddenly Barbie, the fraught aspirational figure, has beheld someone she might aspire to be, and it is a radiantly content nonagenarian, reading a newspaper on a Los Angeles bench, who knows what she’s worth.